He loved her for the girl that once she was,
When he himself was but a boy
Languid in his longing for the song in her eyes
And the sense of her touch in the dreamless dark

Through other brief loves the magic held
Though year, on gathering year, the memories declined
Until he held again a young girl’s weight
In his yet firm embrace

Through empty gaze and bitter words
She poured upon his unfamiliar brow
He loved her yet, for all that she had been
Cradling her shadow in his arms

Until, awakening to find her gone
He dressed her for the final time
Kissed her pale wide forehead,
And let the tears, undammed, fall now, salting their woven hands